


Forming our Constellation

by AmmoKnotKnot7



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Bonding, Established Relationship, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Izumi (Avatar) is a non-bender, Kid Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, POV Sokka (Avatar), Parent-Child Relationship, Parental Sokka, Post-Canon, Post-War, Step-parents, sort of step parent Sokka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmmoKnotKnot7/pseuds/AmmoKnotKnot7
Summary: Zuko adopted Izumi a year into his reign, shutting up his court that had been hounding him for marriage to ‘secure the royal line’. Sokka refused the title of Uncle as a teenager. A few years later, Zuko and Sokka got together, got engaged.So, Izumi has Uncle Aang, a whole bunch of aunties, and Sokka.Now, she’s five, and in danger, but Sokka refuses to let a hair on her head be hurt.-x-Fire Lord Izumi has two fathers, and she’s always known that, even when they didn’t.
Relationships: Izumi & Sokka (Avatar), Izumi & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 313





	Forming our Constellation

**Author's Note:**

> The hugest thanks to the amazing [Sin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snymph12/pseuds/snymph12) for essentially walking me through the whole process of betaing, cheerreading whenever I needed it, and cleaning this little one-shot up with dedication. <3
> 
> tw: mild description of panic, minor violence

_Get to her_

Grass and mud rushing under his feet. Shoes slipping in a sharp corner. Zuko’s voice still echoing in his ears, drowning out everything. His stricken, desperate expression, shouting, “Sokka, GO! _Please!”_ Voice cracking, breaking, begging. 

_Ten seconds_

Freezing raindrops striking his face like needles, blurring his vision. It doesn’t matter, he knows these halls. It was just supposed to be a lazy afternoon at _home._ Safe. 

_What if they already- No_

Clothes chilled and stuck to his skin. Yet his upper arms burning in a brand where Zuko had grabbed him. The weight around his throat swinging with his motions, reminding him of a promise. 

_Zuko’s counting on you_

The name sticks in his throat, desperately wanting to bubble out in a sob. The wall of fire he’d put between them and the assassins flickers behind Sokka’s eyelids. He swallows the noise down. 

_Our baby girl_

Each step feels like one too many. He needs to get to her, see her, hold her, keep her safe. 

_Twenty seconds_

Space sword a familiar weight in his hand. Balanced for him, forged of his sweat and the moon’s love. 

_You cannot fail them_

He’s forgetting to breathe, like he can’t allow it till she’s in his arms, safe. 

_Zuko’s fighting for his life somewhere_

Turning away from him had felt like ripping his skin off. But he had to, he had to because— 

“IZUMI!” 

His heart slams into his ribs and then stops entirely, because he just burst into her room and she’s not _there—_

“Sokka!” 

She must have heard the alarm, because she’s sitting in a shadowed corner, curled into a tiny ball with her black cloak snug around her. Or she was, before spotting him and running over. 

Sokka meets her on his knees, gathering her into the protection of his arms as soon as he could reach her. She’s so good, so good, quiet and unassuming and careful and _smart_ and he’s saying half of these things out loud as his hands and eyes run all over her, checking for anything not whole and safe. 

Izumi giggles a little, obediently letting herself be turned and pet and hugged. 

The sound jolts him. The world snaps into focus, like holding Izumi and hearing her happy unlocks something in him, sets his head straight, completes him. He can breathe again. 

“Okay, okay.” Now that he’s no longer one big frayed nerve-ending, Sokka’s warrior training kicks in. His awareness split, cataloguing sounds and changes in their surroundings continuously, charting out their path through the palace, muscles tensed and ready. Focused on every moving part of the plan that leads him to his one goal, protecting Izumi. “We have to go into the tunnels. You remember that, my star?” 

Izumi nods, her features solidifying into their own version of a serious expression. Since she turned four, royal protocol had her learning about the secret bunker and all the entrances dotted around the palace with Zuko twice a year. By now, she’d had three such sessions, and Sokka had only joined them on the very latest one, after Zuko had a particularly harrowing argument-disguised-as-a-meeting with his advisors. Only the royal family was allowed down there, and the engagement necklaces apparently did not qualify Sokka in their eyes. In the end, Sokka had pointed out that Zuko’s safety being paramount meant that Izumi wouldn’t be able to do this alone, and he’d been grudgingly allowed. 

Sokka smiles, hopefully reassuring, and nods back at her. As he turns and moves to the door to check that it’s clear, Izumi bundles herself back into her cloak, making her as unassuming of a target as possible. It hurts Sokka’s heart that she’s undergone enough training for a five-year-old to know what to do, and worse still that she’s having to apply it now. She presses herself to his leg, and it almost does more for him than for her. 

The corridor looks empty, and the hallways at either end devoid of noises or shadows. Sokka reaches a hand back, a smaller warmer hand curling around it just as he's expecting, and they move. 

Just one more right, and they will be at the portrait that’ll swing aside if you know how to press the bricks behind it. 

They almost make it. 

* * *

Sokka wishes he never got to see true fear on Izumi’s face. It’s a failure of his purpose, that those features ever formed that expression. 

At the very last corner, two figures ambush them, clad in that same horrible orange and black as the assassins from the dining room Sokka had left Zuko in. He hears it first, and Sokka is already pulling Izumi behind him and dispersing the rush of heat invading their left with a swipe of his blade before he registers what happened. 

One of them is a firebender, Sokka knows by now, and the other is wielding something spiky and flexible that Sokka doesn’t have a word for, but knows he doesn’t want it swinging anywhere near Izumi. 

The fire is hot, but the bending unskilled. Diverting their attacks is not taking much from him, most of his energy focused on the little girl behind him. She’d clung to his pant on instinct at the first attack, but let go almost immediately after, allowing Sokka to move as he needed to. 

He doesn’t need to win this fight, just incapacitate them enough for the two of them to slip away and not be followed. Before they get reinforcements. 

A blast of fire clearly fueled by desperate anger shoots over his shoulder. At first, he thinks it’s just another attack that missed— 

Izumi screams. 

The sound chills him to the bone, untouched by the heat of adrenaline or the fire in the air. He twists, uncaring of his vulnerable back, desperate only to see if she’s— 

She's still standing, hands clapped tight over her mouth. The terror in her wide teary eyes makes Sokka’s world stop spinning. It's wrong, so utterly wrong to see that expression on the spunky, feisty, brilliant girl he loves. 

It’s all he can do to get to her, but she’s sees him frozen and wrenches her hands away to cry out, “ _I’m okay_ , I’m okay, I’m sorry, Sok-” 

And she is. Startled, but unharmed. Sokka jolts, cuts her off with a shake of his head, and in one furious motion brings his sword down hilt first at that damned firebender’s head, unconcerned by the fire shooting wide from his hands. The man crumples in a heap. 

The swing from his companion is predictable. Sokka ducks smoothly, his focus entirely on _getting this over with_ , so he can comfort the shaking girl behind him and ensure she never looks like that again. 

He knocks the weapon from the assassin’s grip with a well-placed strike, and he’s down soon after. 

Izumi is entirely capable of running, but the thought doesn’t occur to Sokka once when he bundles her up in his arms and sprints for the portrait. She punches in the code, Sokka refusing to let her out of his arms for a moment, and they’re in. 

* * *

There’s a first aid kit in the niche cut into the wall of the room they’re barricaded in. But after a lot more fussing than necessary, Sokka is forced to accept that he has more use for it than Izumi does. 

He makes her get out the snacks and water as he cleans up his shallow cuts and burns and patches them up. His clothes are still damp, but fighting the firebender earlier has dried them enough that he’s not in any immediate danger, only uncomfortable. 

Watching Izumi’s tiny form putter around is the only thing that is staving off the blind panic that creeps into his veins whenever he thinks about whatever Zuko is facing right now. And he left him alone, _voluntarily_ left his side, turned his back to Zuko in danger, it would be his fault if— 

Izumi’s chubby cheeks puff out as she drinks from the water pouch. 

Sokka jerks his head, like he can throw the thoughts off physically. _Being a man is knowing where you’re needed the most_. His father’s words float in his thoughts as they often do at times like these. 

As he packs up the first aid kit, Izumi plops herself right in his lap, offering him the wafers she’s already nibbling. This is where he’s needed right now. 

“Daddy will— Daddy will be okay.” 

Sokka blinks down at the girl sitting in the cradle of his legs. Her voice is small, but her gaze is steady. Consciously calm, imitating how she’s seen them act when they’re trying to be comforting. And that sentence did not sound like a question. 

Sokka laughs, a little sound of disbelief. Hugs her into his chest, probably crushing her snacks. “Yes, baby, he will.” His fingers curl in her hair. He drops a kiss into it helplessly. “He has his guards, and he’s strong. Plus, those guys weren’t any real hot shits.” Izumi giggles at his expression and the forbidden word. Sokka nuzzles her little nose. “For all you know, he’s fighting all the guards trying to keep him safe because he wants to come down here.” 

Izumi’s hair bounces as she shakes her head firmly. “We wait.” 

“Yup,” Sokka grins. “C’mon,” he mutters, lifting her easily as he stands, “we should make use of the luxuries of the _top-secret royal bunker._ ” He wiggles his eyebrows to go with his hushed conspiratorial tone, letting her feel like she’s in on it. She grins back. They settle into the bed much in the same position as they’d been on the floor, Izumi perched comfortably in his crossed legs. 

She gets crumbs on his pants as she eats. He runs his fingers through her soft hair, watching her and wondering how to best keep her, and himself, distracted. “You want me to give you braids, my star?” 

Izumi lights up. It’s always something of a treat, only ever done for special occasions or lazy nights in with her uncles and aunts. She nods vigorously, tripping over his knees to twist around. Sokka steadies her, laughing. 

“Sokka, Sokka— will you do bows?” she asks, eager, as Sokka finger combs through the soft tresses. He hums a little. “Sorry sweetheart, but I don’t think there are any ribbons here. Once we can go up to your room, then I'll give you bows, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Sokka loses himself in the calming repetitive motions. When Zuko had first adopted her, just over a year into his reign (shutting up his court that had been hounding him to get married to ‘secure the royal line’) he was supposed to have been Uncle Sokka. But at seventeen, he’d refused the title entirely. Zuko had protested a little, citing how important honorifics were in the Fire Nation, but once she started babbling ‘Sock-sock’ every time she saw him, Sokka won. 

And then Sokka and Zuko got together, got engaged, and Uncle Sokka simply didn’t fit anymore. So she had Uncle Aang, a whole bunch of aunties, and Sokka. 

He finishes off her braid with his own tie. Izumi knows to sit still for this after a whole lot of knotted messes her hair ended up in during multiple collective boomerAang gang sleepovers when she got a little too excited. 

“There we go,” Sokka says with a flourish, tossing the end of it over her shoulder. Izumi turns already grinning, throws her arms around his neck, and cheers “Thank you!” because she was taught her manners. He grins back at her. 

Sokka settles Izumi gently atop his left thigh, so she’s sitting sideways in his lap and he can gingerly stretch his other leg. His right knee is protesting now that the adrenaline is wearing off, little sparks of pain shooting down his shin. He massages the ball of it with a wince. 

A small hand joins him. “Your knee hurts again?” Wide eyes looking up at him in concern. He smiles softly at her. “Yes, my star. But look, you made it all better.” 

A determined sort of look crosses her face. It’s oddly reminiscent of Zuko. She nods firmly and leans to press a soft kiss just above his knee. The combination of the expression and the gesture has Sokka tearing up near immediately, and he furiously blinks away the wetness before Izumi turns with that proud smile. “All better,” she repeats. 

“Oh baby.” His voice wobbles dangerously. “Yup, yes. Thank you, sweetie.” He pulls her back in with an arm around her middle, so her side is pressed right into his chest. 

They will most likely not let Zuko down here till the palace gets the all-clear. He has to keep them both occupied, and the easiest way is to keep her talking. So he asks about school, and she’s off. 

“... and then Fuyumi tried to tell our master but we caught her.” 

“What? That’s ridiculous. She was just as much a part of it.” 

“That’s what I said! Anyway so she’s not in our group anymore. And I really only trust Ahmya now. She’s my best friend. We have all our classes together.” 

Then, for the first time in many minutes filled with all the things that matter to a five-year-old girl about school, Izumi falters. Her face scrunches up a little, like she’s remembering something unpleasant. 

“Well, we used to. Before...” 

Izumi is deflating, she’d been full of life this whole time, something is wrong, and Sokka’s nerves are already stretched thin. His concern skyrockets, possibly much more than is warranted. 

“What’s wrong, my star?” 

He hasn’t been able to keep his palpable worry from his voice. He knows it immediately, because Izumi’s lower lip gives a violent tremble, and she curls into his chest. Sokka waits, worry like a cloying thing he can taste in the air. Is she being bullied? Is she falling behind? Are her teachers treating her differently? Her stories had seemed fine but— 

“I maybe—” The small voice muffled in his tunic cuts off his thoughts. “I'm maybe not- not a firebender?” 

Oh. _Oh._ Oh shit. Shit shit. Where was Zuko during this Major Parenting Moment? 

Getting assassinated, that’s where. 

Nope, Sokka cannot go down _that_ squirrel-rabbit hole. 

Okay. Okay. He can’t stay quiet for too long. He moves a comforting hand over her back subconsciously. First- 

“Why do you think that baby? You’re still quite young.” 

“Not too young to have bending classes where they take my best friend away.” 

The snark is so very Zuko-like Sokka barely bites down on his laugh. She continues without prompting. 

“And I know Daddy didn’t get his till he was six but I’m almost six too.” 

Almost is a stretch, there’s still a good number of months. But Sokka doesn’t argue. 

“So Ahmya can bend and she has separate classes?” 

“Yeah.” He can hear the pout in her voice. “We just have an extra physicals hour.” A pause, that Sokka doesn’t interrupt because he can tell she wants to say something. “What if— what if they don’t let me be Fire Lord?” 

Oh, his _baby_. Sokka’s heart aches. “There have been non-bending Fire Lords before, sweetie.” 

Izumi jerks up to look at him for the first time since she buried herself away. Eyes full of wonder. “There have?” 

“Of course, little star. Before the war, it wasn’t that uncommon.” 

“Oh.” He can see her little mind processing this new information. 

Something occurs to Sokka. 

“Daddy told you about how the war ended, right?” 

Izumi looks confused, but nods. “Uncle Aang took away the bad Fire Lord’s bending.” 

“Yup. And he just. Gave up.” 

Izumi is now entirely frowning at him. “Isn’t that a good thing?” 

Sokka grins, and shrugs. “Sure, for us. But think, my star. You’re going to be the best Fire Lord in history of course.” He pokes his fingers into her tummy, and she giggles at both his actions and his words. “How awesome would it be if you did all without any bending, when that evil weak guy couldn’t survive a second without it.” 

She just looks at him for a long moment, chewing on his words. 

“It would be like,” she says slowly, “like daddy’s plays.” 

Sokka laughs, surprised and delighted. “Yes baby, just like that. They fought the entire war by hiding behind their bending powers and you’ll bring peace and balance and all that good stuff all without it.” 

Now she’s getting excited. “Like, like, full circle.” Demonstrates by holding both her hands up in a circle, just in case Sokka forgot. 

He laughs. “Maybe. I have no idea what all those theatre terms are, you can ask your daddy.” 

“Yeah.” Izumi nods, resolute. “Yeah! I’ll be the best, and I won’t need any firebending, and Master Hagakure is wrong.” 

“Heck yeah,” Sokka cheers, and holds up his fist for her to bump her littler-but-just-as-strong one against. Momentarily, he considers correcting the last bit about her teacher, but nah. Zuko can handle that one. “I would know.” 

Izumi’s eyes widen, and the next moment she’s gripping his tunic and jumping around. Or attempting to, but she isn’t as small as she used to be when she could jump in his lap like that. “Oh yes! You don’t have bending also.” 

Sokka sputters. “What, you forgot?!” 

* * *

They haven’t stocked these bunkers with Sokka’s time candles yet, so he really has no idea how much time has passed when the door starts to creak. At the first sound, Sokka is up, holding Izumi’s hand and half-a-step ahead of her just in case. It’s very unlikely that it’d be anyone else but — 

“Daddy!” “Zuko!” 

Izumi rushes out from behind him, and Zuko sweeps her up into his arms. By the time Sokka gets to them, he’s pressing a million kisses onto her face. Before Sokka has time to say whatever smartass thing he would have said at the sheer relief of seeing Zuko alive and well, Zuko shifts Izumi onto one arm and hooks his now free hand at the nape of Sokka’s throat and pulls him for a firm kiss. The kiss of lovers assuring themselves that the other is still in one piece. 

The hand shifts to his cheek as they pull away. Sokka basks in it, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. 

“You’re okay?” Zuko asks, and he sounds breathless. Hearing his voice, Sokka’s smile is not remotely in his control. “Yeah, babe, I’m okay. Are you?” The returning smile and grip on his hand finally has Sokka coming back into his body, firm and steady and present, at last. “I’m good. They just wouldn’t let me come down here till—” 

“I know,” Sokka interrupts. Zuko doesn’t need to fret over the time it took for him to get here. They managed, and it’s over now. 

Zuko gives him a grateful smile, and turns his attention to his daughter. “Oh, Mimi, baby, I’m so sorry. Was it scary?” 

Izumi shakes her head fiercely. “Nuh-uh. I sat in the corner with my cloak like you said, and then Daddy Sokka came to get me, and then...” 

The voice fades, the world falls away. _What?_ All he can hear is the blood pounding in his head, in his ears. _No way_ . His heart is— is, in his throat? In his stomach? _What?!_ An unyielding surface crashes into his back, driving all his breath out. 

“...kka? Sokka?” Zuko’s panicked features and voice float into his consciousness. Sokka blinks over and over, bringing him into focus. “What?” he says, like his thoughts don’t know any other words. 

“Sokka, are you okay?” Oh, oh shit, Zuko thinks— 

Sokka scrambles for words to reassure him. “Ye-Yeah yeah, I'm fine.” Some of the panic leaves Zuko’s face, but he still looks on-edge, and like he thinks Sokka might not be telling the truth. “I just—” His eyes cut to Izumi for a moment, who looks confused and worried. 

But Zuko suddenly seems to understand what happened. His expression melts into something warm and soft and full of love, and the emotional whiplash and general strain of the last few hours have Sokka’s eyes burning. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he mumbles softly. “Has she not said it to you yet?” 

Sokka reels. “What— you— she’s said that before?” He sputters, floored. 

Zuko smiles gently, opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, a small voice mutters, “Did I hurt Daddy Sokka?” 

Izumi isn’t looking at him, staring at the floor with a closed-off expression. Shock and urgency zing through Sokka’s veins at the sight, and he’s rushing over from where he’d slumped against the wall as fast as physically possible. “Spirits no, no, no oh baby no.” Sokka wraps his arms around both of them. His entire world, right there in his hold. 

“My star, my heart, little turtleduck, you didn’t do anything, you’re perfect.” Sokka is crying disgustingly and pressing horrible wet kisses into her hair and running his hand over and over on her back. “You—” he falters, turning astounded awed eyes at Zuko. 

He gets it, because he always gets him. “Of course she’s your daughter Sokka.” 

Sokka breaks. 

He sobs for what feels like hours onto Zuko’s stupid shoulder armor, arms firmly attached around their little family the entire time. Izumi doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, but she does understand that someone she cares about is crying, and she will fix it. Her tiny hands and little kisses and heartfelt comforting words that _she learned from them, both of them_ do not help with Sokka’s whole falling apart problem, but he can’t refuse it for the world. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

* * *

Before their wedding, Sokka takes his family to the South Pole. He introduces his tribe to his _daughter_ , and her to them. Izumi is extremely taken in by Water Tribe culture, and adopted by Sokka’s entire tribe with open arms. The annual visit becomes a tradition, one that she insists upon even when her fathers claim they’re too busy that year, or it otherwise won’t be possible. She earns the Mark of the Trusted and gets crowned heir apparent in the same year. 

To the end of her days, she claims both of her heritages equally. 

Fire Lord Izumi has two fathers, and she’s always known that, even when they didn’t. 

**Author's Note:**

> [my Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/omni-flex) :)


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